Reviews by Ledan Dark

Prologue:



“Alanaaaaa! Don’t you walk away from me.”

His eyes were strange, cold as marble. Then there was his voice. There was a familiar sound to his voice. He was sounding just like---his father; cruel, possessive, self-absorbed and vengeful. Marcus stood in the living room between the torn lovers, having no clue what to do to mend their bleeding relationship. She was leaving him, after two years Alana Costello, the only woman his brother had ever loved was leaving him. Alana too could tell that Luke had changed over time. His heart had become hard as the jewel sapphire and cold as Crater Lake. She was trembling, angry tears running down her face. There was a red heavy palm print on her left cheek where Luke had hit her. He had actually hit her!

“You’re not the Luke I met and fell in love with two years ago. The Luke I knew was kind and loving and sweet. . .not conceited and callous.” Alana grabbed her leather jacket, her feathery tangled sun-bleached hair, dangled on her shoulders. “I’m walking away from your father and the image of him that you’ve become.”

“What do you want me to do? Huh? WHAT?!” Luke kicked over a nearby chair. “I’m a Barceló, I can’t escape that. Whether I like it or not, I’m the man’s son. It’s Michael’s blood that runs through my veins.” He rolled up the sleeve of his shirt and held up his forearm.

“And sadly I realized that too late. I thought the change in you was just a phase that I could deal with, but I can’t anymore. God knows I can’t. I wish I never met you Luke; maybe I never would have known what it was to love so strong and then hurt so badly. So I’m going back home to Carolina. I want out of this relationship.”

“I love you too much to let you go because of my father.” He began walking towards her with a look in his eyes, cold and fierce and holding no tenderness. Marcus quickly stepped in front Luke to block his path.

“Luke, you can’t force her to stay. Just let her go man, you need to let her go.”

Luke’s face was filled with his indignation and so he turned away.

“I’m sorry. . .”Alana whispered and taking the opportunity to go before things got worst, she picked up her bag and started for the door.

“Luke!” Marcus grabbed his brother’s jersey as he marched to the door behind her. Livid, he heaved his hand from Marcus and slammed the door shut when Alana opened it. She jumped back, startled that he had closed the door on her.

“No one leaves me.” Luke pulled out a twenty-two caliber pistol and aimed it at her beautiful face.

“Jesus, Luke what are you doing?!” Marcus exclaimed when he saw the gun.

“She’s not leaving me!” He turned and shouted at his brother. Alana was right, Marcus was seeing his father’s nature in his brother and that very nature had become like an ulcer to his character. After they tried so hard not to become like him; with their solemn promise, the boys swore not to walk in Michael’s footsteps and here Luke was, grown up and a representation of their father.

Marcus’ heart jolted when he heard Alana’s pitiful chuckle. Had she gone mad? A gun was in her face, IN HER FACE and she was laughing.

“What are you going to do Luke? Huh? You want to hurt me?”

“Don’t provoke him Alana.” Marcus stepped closer. He had never seen his brother react this way. He was afraid of what Luke might do in such rage. Luke shoved her back into the living room.

“Sit down!” he ordered. She stumbled, but did not take the seat.

“You don’t get it, I’m walking through that door Luke. I’m going and this time I’m not ever coming back.”

“You don’t get it Alana,” Luke placed his finger on the trigger. “You’re not going anywhere.”

Alana wasn’t backing down and Marcus knew that his brother was going to pull the trigger, it was eminent. Fury lit the depths of his eyes as he moved the gun from her face down to her chest and leveled it directly at her heart.

“A heart for a heart. . .” Luke whispered. At that very moment, Marcus rammed his full weight into Luke’ back, causing Luke to crash against the wall. Caught off guard by Marcus’ sudden advance, Luke had broken his nose from the brunt of the push.

“Marcus are you crazy, he has a gun!” Alana yelled.

“Get out of here!” Marcus yelled at her while he tried to hold his brother at bay. Just as quickly, his head was snapped back and he was knocked off his feet by Luke’ forcible elbow as it struck his face. Luke turned his head and spat out the blood that ran from his nostrils and to his mouth.

“Are you stupid? You broke my nose!” He snarled as he wiped his face with the back of his hand. “Don’t even think about it.” Luke turned the gun on Marcus when he saw him trying to get up, knowing that he’d try to rush at him again. Alana slowly began walking towards Luke.

“Luke, think about what you’re doing,” She said calmly as she stood at his side. “You’re aiming a gun at your brother. You’re aiming a gun at Marcus.”

“Shut up!” Luke turned to tell her as Marcus regained his footing and came at Luke again. The gun went off as Marcus shoved Luke unto the dinner table. Alana ducked and cried out as the lamp fell and shattered. Marcus dragged his brother along the length of the table until the two tumbled to the floor. Alana bolted out the front door and ran to the neighbors for help before the fight escalated to a fatal ending.

Luke quickly climbed unto Marcus. The gun had skidded away out of his reach and so he hauled his brother’s collar. Marcus head had thudded against the tile floor due to the hard fall and now pain throbbed at the back of his skull. Luke reached across Marcus and yanked the telephone from the outlet. Adrenalin pumped and breathing heavily, his destructive rage was on the verge of madness. Blindly filled with incense, Luke raised the telephone, ready to bash his brother’s head. Out of the corner of his eye, Marcus saw that the gun slid under the nearby chair. Quickly reaching for it, he turned the gun on Luke and pulled the trigger.

Silence drifted across the room. Even the stirrings of the night had ceased. Luke was slummed over on a stunned Marcus, the fountain of his blood splattered on Marcus’ face. Eyes wide open and staring at the ceiling, Marcus felt his heart stop. . .or was that his brother’s? His heart was no longer beating. He had felt it racing during the fight, pumping full of adrenaline and giving Luke strength. Now not a single beat pumped from it.

“Luke?” Marcus rolled his brother off of him and his lifeless body fell limply at his side. He saw the gaping hole in his brother’s right cheek and weakened by the sight of blood that was running rivers down Luke’ face, he lifted Luke’ head. “Please don’t do this to me Luke, don’t do this to me. I didn’t mean to do it. I didn’t mean to do it,” he repeated. Marcus’ eyes were stark with astonishment and beads of sweat breaking out on his face.

“Help!” He called out. “My brother’s been shot!” He looked around the living room and saw that Alana was no longer there and the front door was open. He could hear her thundering footsteps moving along the corridor as she cried out for the neighbors to call the ambulance. He had shot his brother ---he had killed his brother. Marcus rubbed his forehead against Luke’, begging him still to be alive. He pressed his ear against his chest, waiting for the faintest beat to recur, but none came.

Alana had stopped amidst her running one hearing the gun fire and frantically, she pounded on the neighbor’s door. No one came out to help. She stopped at room 209 and pounded until Timothy and his son Chad came out. She could barely speak when they asked her what was wrong.

“My---my boyfriend and his brother---they got into a fight---my boyfriend had a gun and it just went off.”

They were running with her back up the flight of steps and on reaching the last stair, they heard the gun go off again. They stopped.

“Chad I think you should call an ambulance.” Timothy said to his son who had already called the police while they were on their way up. Alana’s heart skipped a beat. When she stormed through the open door, she saw Marcus sprawled on the floor with the pistol in his hand next to his brother Luke.

“My God, what happened here?” the boy Chad, asked after they stepped into the apartment and saw the over turned chairs, the broken dinner wares and the two bodies lying on the living room floor.

“Luke?. . .” Alana walked over to her boyfriend’s body and drew a sharp breath when she saw the hole in his cheek. His eyes wide open. She faltered and fell back into the arms of Timothy who was standing behind. Alana looked across at Marcus and instantly burst into tears when she saw the gun shot wound to his head.

“He must have turned the gun on himself,” Timothy murmured.

“We need an ambulance to come over right away, two brothers have been shot. We’re at fifty-five Gloria Avenue, apartment #229 on the sixth floor,” Chad said standing near the door. Alana saw the tears trickling down Marcus’ left temple and rushed to his side. Frantically, she pulled down his collar and pressed her finger under his chin to check his pulse.

“He’s alive!” she raised her head and exclaimed.

“No way,” Chad said as he ambled over and stared down at the guy. Alana clasped Marcus’ free hand and knelt on the floor next to him. “Hold on Marcus, please just hold on.”